By Right Spoilers for season three
by Compromised-Alpha
Summary: Tyrion realizes it's time he had his wife and Sansa is reluctant at first, but even if she doesn't change her mind completely, she does have a bit of fun for her first time. (Starts as a bit of non-con Syrion not much plot, happy-ish ending)


**A/N: For ethical reasons I'm going to say Sansa's at _least _sixteen**

Tyrion closed the door firmly behind him. Sansa was sitting demurely on the bed, quietly waiting for him as she'd been told to.

"Lady Sansa, I know that I said I would wait for your consent before we-" Tyrion paused at the look on her face, feeling awkward. "I mean to say that I've made some rather rash promises." Sansa nodded, not really looking at him. "We are not technically married until we've _consummated_ the marriage and there are _practical_ concerns as well."

"Yes my lord." Sansa's face was growing redder with every passing minute.

"Do you understand what I'm saying to you?" Tyrion asked.

"Yes my lord. You want- you want to make a child with me." Sansa's voice trembled slightly. Tyrion sighed, he didn't really agree with what he'd been ordered to do, but it was true, Sansa was a very beautiful girl and they _were _married. Sansa couldn't quite bring herself to begin undressing, Tyrion noticed, he'd have to help her. Tyrion walked slowly over to the bed, climbed it and stood behind her. His deft hands found the laces on her shift and began to pull them free. He felt Sansa tremble delicately beneath his fingers and was momentarily ashamed of himself. He brushed off the feeling and continued his work until all the ties were undone and her gown was hanging loosely on her shoulders.

"Just relax Sansa," he rubbed her shoulders briefly before sliding the straps of the gown down her smooth shoulders, freeing her chest. Tyrion cupped one of the small, pert breasts, ran a thumb over her nipple and felt it harden as she gasped quietly. Tyrion grinned and kneaded her for a moment before releasing her and beginning to work on her hair, freeing it from it's intricate arrangement as slowly as he could. He knew it wasn't fair to tease Sansa this way, he also didn't care. Her hair down, Tyrion stepped away from her.

"Stand up Sansa," Sansa slowly did as he asked and turned to face him. Tyrion let his eyes roam over her slight frame, dress clutched to her chest with one pale arm.

"Why don't you let that go and get back into bed with me?" Sansa hesitantly let her gown fall to the floor as she blushed. She stared at the floor, embarrassed at the way his eyes were devouring her. Tyrion was gazing at her slim, naked form, pleased with what he saw. After some time and another impatient prompt from Tyrion, Sansa approached the bed again. She sat, arms folded across her chest, trying to protect her last shred of dignity.

"Stop that," Tyrion pulled her arms down, "You look lovely." He removed his jacket and tossed it to the floor. Sansa tried not to look at his naked chest. He wasn't bad looking, for someone so small, it was a conflicting thought. Tyrion straddled Sansa, taking her face in one rough hand. Sansa's eyes closed of their own accord as he drew her face closer and their lips met. His mouth worked skillfully against hers, his teeth grazing her lower lip. Sansa felt like all the air had been sucked out of the world. Tyrion's hand moved from her chin to tangle in her silky hair as he continued to kiss her, tongue sliding into her mouth. Sansa tried not to cringe, not liking that nearly as much. She supposed it must be necessary though, or he wouldn't be doing it. Tentatively, she reached up to wove her fingers through his hair, hoping he wouldn't mind. Tyrion didn't. He took it as further encouragement, tongue moving deeper into her mouth. He couldn't help himself. Sansa smelled exotic to him, like pine and cocoa. After what felt like an eternity to Sansa, but only a moment to Tyrion, he pulled away from her, needing more.

"Lie back Sansa," he ordered as he stepped away. Sansa complied, laying on a mountain of pillows, uncomfortably aware of how very exposed she was. She had to force herself to keep still. Her hands kept trying to move to cover herself, almost of their own accord. Lord Tyrion, had forbidden that, though. She watched as he undressed himself completely, surprised at the length of his erection. It was much larger than she'd supposed it would be with his condition. Sansa began to fidget, nervously twisting the covers beneath her. She'd assumed he'd be small enough that she wouldn't have to worry about any pain. That was clearly not the case. Tyrion approached her again, kneeling between her legs.

"This really will go more smoothly if you relax," he chided her. Sansa could only nod mutely. She shut her eyes, unable to watch and trying to brace herself for the pain. Tyrion sighed loudly, it looked like he had a little more work to do before she was ready to accept him. He lowered his head and kissed her lips. Sansa's eyes shot open and she jerked away from him with a startled noise.

"My lord!" Tyrion grinned.

"Not quite what you were expecting was it?" His head dipped back down and Sansa twitched as his tongue caressed her in a completely unexpected way. She could feel a warmth beginning to build in a way she had never experienced before. Tyrion's tongue slipped between her folds and traced circles there. A breathy sigh escaped Sansa before she could stop it and she could feel Tyrion smile against her. His head reappeared a blissful moment later as he moved to her side. Tyrion kissed her mouth again and to Sansa, he somehow tasted saltier this time. Tyrion began trailing kisses down her neck, pausing to nip carelessly. Sansa grabbed his coarse hair, wound her fingers through it, and tugged softly. Tyrion found her breast and he covered it with his lips, sucking the supple skin with a tenderness Sansa hadn't known he possessed. A soft, wisp of sound left her mouth as her back arched away from the bed. Tyrion stroked the curve of her side as he continued kissing down to the bright thatch of hair that covered her most sensitive regions. His mouth brushed her once again, but briefly, then he was between her legs again.

"I will try to make this as painless as possible."

"Yes Tyrion," Sansa concentrated on staying relaxed as she felt him press against her. She tried to trust him as the pressure increased and turned into the beginnings of pain. Tyrion resisted the urge to swear as he continued to push himself slowly into her. He'd only ever really been with whores before and if he'd ever had a virgin, he'd forgotten how it felt. Sansa felt herself clench around him as he let himself rest in her for a moment. It was a strange feeling of fullness, discomfort and something else she couldn't quite identify. Eventually she relaxed again and Tyrion took this as an invitation to begin moving. He rocked backwards almost as slowly as he'd first entered her, and then forwards at the same speed. Sansa squirmed slightly and Tyrion palmed her, rubbing firmly. He thrust more quickly, savouring the feeling of being wholly one with her. He brushed her lightly with the tips of his fingers as he maintained his rhythm. Sansa was overwhelmed by sensation. The warmth in her stomach turned into a blazing pool of fire as her muscles clenched around his length. Sansa gasped and clutched at the sheets, eyes shut tight. She made no other sound Tyrion continued pumping into her. He finished moments later, but didn't move for a while, simply looking at his spent wife. Tyrion threw himself down beside her, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, but immeasurably pleased. He wasn't sure if Sansa was awake to hear him as he placed his sturdy hand on his waist and murmured, "Sansa Lannister, you are mine," before he rolled over and fell into a deep and tranquil sleep.


End file.
